


Risk ➸ Simon

by HailTheFreakShow



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caring Simon, Cussing, Developing Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-04-16 20:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14172774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HailTheFreakShow/pseuds/HailTheFreakShow
Summary: You've been knocked out for a couple days due to a pervious Walker situation. You end up wakening unaware of your surroundings nor remembering the events from before.You find yourself in The Sanctuary, faced with unfamiliar people that you soon become aquatinted with, including someone named Simon who looks after you.





	1. Rise

You lay on a cement floor, its cold texture sending chills through your arms and legs. Hearing the sound of echoing _clinks and clanks_ stopping dead in their tracks caused you to wince. Your vision was blurred at first, but  cleared enough to see the pair of black leather boots standing before you. A faint gasp escaped your lips as you haltingly look up to lock eyes with the man who glared deeply at you; an amusing expression to form his features. "Well, look who decided to finally wake up." he spoke.

A pause of silence filled the vacant room, allowing you to shift positions and sit up, now leaning your back against the wall from behind. Still keeping eye contact, you manage to break away from his elongated stare and study his appearance, noticing that he is wearing: a leather jacket to match the boots, red scarf, and a single black glove on one hand. He also showed: grayish stubble which nearly formed a beard, brown hair and irises, and a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire resting in his left palm.

"I'm Negan," the man smiled with a shit-eating grin. "I'm the boss of things around here...Welcome to The Sanctuary." He lifted the bat and whirled his arm around in a presenting manner. "What's your name darling?" Negan questioned, but you remained quiet. "What's wrong? Cat gotcher' tongue?" He inched closer to your face, feeling your stomach churn in a result of untrustworthiness.

"Y/N..." you spoke, voice sounding weary and dry from lack of fluids.

"Ah, so your throat box does work!" he laughed.

In response you glanced up at him, then the ground. There wasn't too much more to stare at considering the extremely small room the two of you occupied. Dull walls which replicated the same color of the concrete flooring; it all seemed to be a shade of filthy dish water gray. Only light source being a dimmed bulb hanging from the ceiling, looming above Negan's head.

"Alright. Time to get your ass up." His right hand reached out to you—unsure of what was going on or what this stranger may do to you. You hesitantly grasped it, feeling the glove graze your skin as he pulled you from the ground.

"H-how did I get here?" you stutter while finding your balance.

"I'll explain later. At the moment you need to eat, then make a big decision that'll change your future."

You gulped in fear at his words; not knowing what he meant by _'change your future'_. You were starting to gather thoughts of: _How did I actually end up here? How long have I been out cold? What is this place? How many people dwell here? Is Negan to be trusted? Where was he taking me? What will change my future? Most importantly, why can't I remember anything before I woke up?_

Those endless questions boggled in your brain, leaving you wondering in such a deep trance that you didn't even hear what Negan said prior, as he snapped his fingers in your face, asking if you'd hurry up. Immediately doing as you're told, you follow close behind the leader, obviously understanding a fight would be no match for you lacked strength nor inherited a weapon. Both of you stepped out into the corridor, complementing the room with its familiar, dull, colorless atmosphere.

Along the journey to who-knows-where, Negan managed to explain more information about this place called, _'The Sanctuary'_ , and how his people go by the _'Saviors'_. Also not to mention the baseball bat indeed has a name: _Lucille_. You listened carefully to what he had to say, plus taking cautious notes of your surroundings and studying the features of passing Saviors, who seemed to always shoot you a menacing glare.

***

"Here we are!" Negan proclaimed.

The two of you entered a kitchen where numerous fruits and vegetables awaited. Eyes widening, you longed to just snag an apple and scarf it down as quickly as you could. Instead, you patiently stood beside the boss-man, watching what his next intentions would be.

"I want you to take it easy for a second darling—Breathe—I notice how tense you are right now. No one is gonna hurt-cha." He smirked placing an arm around your shoulder, still perceiving the nourishment's laying beneath you. "Eat for now...My right-hand-man, Simon, will be here shortly to escort you to your new living chamber and also stop by Dr. Carson's office since you're up and walking." Negan moved forward to face you. "Meet me in my room later today so we can discuss _things_." You nod your head. "Good, I've gotta go. I'm a busy busy man. I'll see ya' in a bit, darlin'." he asserted; a whistle melody spewing from his mouth when exiting the canteen.

Soon Negan had left you be. Inhaling sharply, you grabbed a piece of fruit from a semi-torn basket, and started to graze. It felt so nice to have your belly being filled after such a long time. You then _hoped_ to clear your head from this odd awakening of not remembering a thing or your encounter with the leader of the Saviors. You remained to rummage through different baskets and drink sips of water; acting like you belonged there. Everything felt at peace while you were alone and as workers busily kept to themselves in the background, until a voice called your name that wasn't Negan's.

Turning around you spot a man only a few yards away, striding in your direction. He wore: a khaki shirt and pants with dark-colored boots. His black receding hairline and thick mustache to correlate. The stranger stood before you, tall frame towering from above, his dark brown eyes staring into yours as a cocky smile etched across his lips. "Hello, I'm Simon," he said, "I'm here to help you settle in."


	2. Relent

You smile in return as your cheeks were stuffed with large helpings. You then notice and embarrassingly cover your mouth in order to swallow. "Hi," you say, trying not to seem like a pig while enjoying your meal. "I'm-"

"Y/N. Negan told me on my way here." Simon bluntly interrupted. "I see you've woken up after two days."

"Two days?!" you repeated, nearly choking on the water that you were in the middle of downing.

"Yeah," he spoke with long exaggeration. "You got knocked out pretty damn hard back at that farm."

 _Farm?_ You thought to yourself; no connection being made by this afresh news. "What happened to me? How did I end up at The Sanctuary?"

"You don't—Negan didn't tell you?" he asked in almost amusement while rubbing his mustache, raising an eyebrow.

"No, he said that he would explain things later...Could you at least enlighten me on what the hell is going on?" you retorted.

"Well, I wasn't there when it took place. All I know is that you came from a small farm nine miles south, and found unconscious. Brought here and resided knocked out for roughly forty-eight hours. Negan could _enlighten_ you on more specific details, if you'd wish." he spat.

Everything commencing to sink in like a boat whose hull ripped to shreds. Unpleasant pains surged through your stomach as you grew uncomfortable standing in the kitchen, now knowing bits of the story. The way these strangers _'kidnapped'_ you scared you more than anything. How they could've easily diverted you from something great. Did you have a group before? Were you alone? Did they steal you? Or possibly save you? No matter the case, you froze in shock. You weren't really the type to express fear, but you looked as if you've seen a ghost.

"Hey!" Simon's voice causing you to regain eye contact. "You okay?" 

"I don't know..." you whispered.

"Let's get you to Dr. Carson." He wrapped a large arm around your body and led you into the hallway. You became sick, agitated, legs feeling weak; unable to identify if this was an effect from unconsciousness or the terrorized fear you indulged. Either way you felt like shit. Simon, on-the-other-hand, seemed to be an asshole due to his tone and body language from moments ago. You immediately weren't fond of him and wished he would disappear.

***

The two of you trekked through different corridors and even ascended a flight of stairs, until you reached an office filled with medical supplies. The door was wide open for anyone to enter. Simon knocked against the frame; alerting a gentleman who was seated at a desk. "Oh, she's awake!" the man exhaled in relief.

"Carson, this is Y/N. She woke up thirty minutes ago and started to look uneasy." said Simon.

"It's nice to meet you." you smiled lightly.

"You as well," the doctor grinned back. "Please sit. I need to do a little check-up."

You climbed to the top of an old hospital bed—feet dangling which barely lingered above the floor. Dr. Carson scooted closer, almost face-to-face as he observed you in the poorly lit room. After several minutes of no talking, you notice Simon went missing. You didn't care about his absence, only relieved he was gone for the time being.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." Dr. Carson spoke breaking the silence.

"What exactly?"

"You experienced blunt force trauma to the posterior portion of your cranium, which resulted to a two-day coma."

"Do you know what caused it or how?"

"I can't say for sure. You were rescued from a farm and quickly brought to my aid. Saviors rushed in explaining how you were found nearly dead on top of a bale of hay." said Carson. "Can you remember anything from the farm or after you woke up?"

"No. I have zero memory. I don't know if I was even alone or with a group...I did wake up in another room on the ground—you knew I was in a coma, why didn't anyone put me in a bed?"

"About that," Carson started. "On the day of your arrival, we had no rooms available. You see, we recruit and lose Saviors almost daily and not everyone has a bed to sleep in. I was instructed to carefully place you in one of our storage facilities—Lucky for you, a new room has opened up today."

"Why was Negan there when I got up?"

"Every-other-hour different people would check on you. To make sure you were alright and breathing. The time you regained consciousness, it happened to be the leaders shift."

***

Later in mid-conversation, a voice suddenly interrupted you and the doctors chat. "How is she doc?" a hint of concern in their tone.

You glance behind Carson to see Simon, who returned and is leaning against the doorway. "Oh-uh, she is okay for now, but needs bed rest for the remainder of the day and tomorrow."

Simon stood up-right and placed his hands around the belt encircling his waist. "Y/N's room is all tidied up and clean."

"Great. She'll need someone to watch her. After a while she should be good to go." Carson said, now bringing his attention to you. "If you need anything, I'll be here in my office."

Simon helped you off the hospital bed, seeing how weak and dizzy you were. You managed to tell Dr. Carson thank you and started heading out where you'd be established. You both walked five rooms down from the infirmary and entered a well-sized living space which contained: a double bedded mattress, side table, kitchenette, and small open area.

"This is it." Simon smirked.

"It's nice." you spoke softly, taking in the scenery, and acknowledging insignificant details on the furniture.

"It was someone else's, but it's all yours now."

"Thanks for helping me get here, to the room, I mean. I know I can hardly walk." you laugh quietly at the end.

"It's no problem. Boss insists I look after you until you're well."

You gave Simon an indecisive look, not fully trusting him since the two of you just met within the past hour. Including his first impression of coming off as a slight dick didn't help the situation.

"I think I'll be fine. I'm not a little kid Simon!" you huffed.

"Just taking orders." he raised his arms in a playful surrender.

"I don't need a babysitter! I'm perfectly fine."

"Sweetheart...you literally woke up from a damn coma not too long ago."

"Alright." you gave in knowing you wouldn't win this fight.

Simon's brown eyes fixed onto yours; a genuine smile beamed across his features. The two of you grew lost in one another's stare, until you started coughing. It caused your head to hurt worse than it already did. "Get some rest. I'll come back in a while—Oh and one more thing before I go." He leaned towards you and whispered _essential advice_ about The Sanctuary in your ear that could come in handy later. But before you could even sit down on the rickety mattress, there was a knock at the door. You nod to Simon to open it. When he approached the exit you couldn't see anyone, only hear his and a woman's voice.

"Arat?" Simon questioned.

"Negan wishes to speak with Y/N now."


	3. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a flashback chapter. It explains in full detail of how the character blacks out and gets to The Sanctuary. It's not crucial information, just backstory. You don't have to read it if you don't want to.

_You hid. That's all you could do. Hiding from the hoard of living corpses seemed to be your only option. A shaky switch-blade knife wielded in your right hand as you leaned against an old tractor tire inside the barn. You tried calming your breathing, but it was no use. This felt like the end. You wished everything would've worked out like planned minutes ago._

_***_

_There was a small handful of people you abide with. Your father being the most important of the group. He helped you with everything: from your first day of kindergarten, first break-up, teaching you how to drive, and even to the recent evening where you had to peacefully put your mother down after she died. He was your world. Your light. Your everything. Nothing could change that._

_"Will ya hand me that box of rounds?" your father asked. Grabbing the faded red package of ammunition, you tossed them in his direction. "Thank you sweet-pea." You laughed at the cute name he used, then continued sharpening the tiny knife he had given you before._

_Sky was glowing a subtle orange hue while the sun fell beneath the horizon. As of now, your group resided in tents along the Virginian forest, hoping to find larger confinement's soon._

_A friend of yours named, Rebekah, returned with dead squirrels and rabbits hanging off her shoulders for dinner. She was the hunter of the pack; very skilled with any gun or knife you could hand her. She set down the carcasses and joined you as you remained to sharpen the blade. "How was your day?" you ask, still watching your fingers motion over the weapon._

_"S'alright." her thick Southern accent being heard. "Came across thirty-two Walkers. Killed'em all without a single shot!"_

_"Damn. That's more than lasts run. They're starting to get closer."_

_"Don't worry 'bout it. Jake'll fuck'em up with no effort." Rebekah chuckled._

_"Yeah, but we should really move on tomorrow. All of us deserve a proper bed to sleep in. Hell. We've been living out in the open for almost a full week." you said putting down the switch-blade._

_"Can't argue with that. I miss the feeling of a nice, warm, bed. What's one thing you miss most?"_

_"What?"_

_"Ya'know, what is the one thing ya miss most of all? Before shit went down?"_

_"Oh-umm." you ponder for a moment, remembering the past and what today lacks from it. "Honestly, there's a lot, but what probably tops everything would be a hot shower. I haven't had one of those in forever." You exclaim._

_"Me too."_

_***_

_The next day seemed like any other. Waking up in a panic to see if a possible corpse came limping towards you or your group. Thankfully this morning was peaceful. You exited your sleeping bag and stretched your arms wide, finding your way to your fathers tent. Waking him up, he yawned aloud, blinking before staring at you with a smile._

_"Good morning sweetie." he said. You returned the greeting and help him to his feet. You both exit and join some people for breakfast._

_"Hey!" a voice yelled from afar. "I found something." Looking over, you see that it is Tyler, a companion whose been with your group for three months now. Everyone sprang up to see what the young man needed to share. "I found an establishment a mile away!" Tyler panted. "There's a few Walkers around it, but we should be able to take them out!" With no hesitation, everyone quickly gathered their belongings and headed north._

_***_

_In the distance there was a medium-sized farmstead, which looked big enough for everyone to have their own personal room. Each step you drew closer and closer to the barn, though it seemed to be in semi-harsh conditions. "Is this place safe?" asked a member._

_"Should be." Tyler reassured._

_Within minutes, all the Walkers laid dead in the tall grass; breeze blowing gently through the warm summers air. The barn was unlocked, surprising to find it this way. Only five more Walkers remained inside, you easily took them out individually and began to rummage around the barn's interior. It was a cute little farm that could've seen better days. The group immediately fit in and found their own space within the settlement._

_***_

_Hours pass and you begin hearing the familiar low growl of a living corpse. Peering outside, your eyes widen and jaw drops loose. Not sure if you were seeing properly, you stutter your fathers name to take a look. He joins your side to witness the enormous hoard of roughly forty Walkers._

_"Dad! This isn't enough to kill all at once!" you whispered in a panic._

_"I know." he admits._

_Your heart sank as you call your companions to help keep the ridged doors shut. Each person added their weight to the entrance, but it was no use. Shots broke out and knives flew through the air; war between the dead and living broke out. You fought back with so much force, but it wasn't enough. That day you watched your friends get slowly eaten by bastard Walkers._

_As the dead made their way closer to you, some would trip over those who feasted upon your group. You managed to spare little time and hide behind a large tractor tire, breaths quickly leaving your lungs. You scanned the room in utter fear until you had the courage to fight again._

_A Walker grabbed your arm, whirling back you thought you had taken your final gasp of air, but to your surprise the corpse fell to the ground. Your father stabbed him in the head, saving your life. He smiled at you for a moment. Eyes lighting up as they stared deeply into your beautiful ones. His face was smothered in blood that couldn't be identified as his own or someone else's. Mouth opening to speak, your fathers neck quickly spewed pools of red; a Walker delved into his flesh, ending his life on contact._

_You scream as you witnessed your world wither away in such ease. You were too distraught to notice that a piece of scrap metal hanging from barn's ceiling began to cave in on you, causing you to fall on a pile of hay. You blacked out completely. Your fathers now dead body collapsed on top of yours. Walkers flooded the scene and ate happily while their meal ticket rested on the floor below._

_~Half an hour later~_

_A group of Saviors stumbled across the farm, Negan being one of them. They scour the barn, looking for any resources. Each person took note of the horrid scenery which took place less than an hour ago._

_"Boss!" shouted a Savior. "I think one of'ems  alive!"_

_They all gathered around to check out a girl who laid on a bale of hay. She was trapped underneath an eaten body. Negan lifted the corpse off of the girl, leaning in closer to her, hearing her low breathing patterns._

_"Get'er to The Sanctuary!...NOW!" Negan yelled to his workers who didn't waste time in carrying her to their trucks. When they arrived back at their home, the girl was escorted quickly to Dr. Carson's office. She slept peacefully in a coma for who-knows-how-long._


	4. Retinue

You sat in Negan's bedroom that evening. Glued to the edge of your chair, you burned a distasteful scowl into his gawking eyes. Sitting across from you, the leader of the Saviors put zero effort into making you feel safe around his presence. His witty grin expanding and head cocked to the side while observing your body. "I. Am. _So_ glad to have you here." he shifted and careened his back slightly towards your direction.

"You said you would explain things?"

"Surely you've heard bits and pieces of how ya got here, yes?" his eyes narrowed.

"Only a gist."

"Well. I'm the one who saved you. I am the man who dragged that nasty fucking corpse off of your body. If it wasn't for me, your ass would be dead right about now."

Negan spilled much greater details on how you were found and rescued. Tears lingering, you start to remember small portions of that day. It was a hazy memory, but you're able to recall your fathers knife severing into the Walkers skull and it dropping to the ground. How your fathers' precious life escaped this earth when another living corpse tore into his neck. The blood gushing everywhere like a busted dam.

You were trapped in a daze, thinking back to your fathers death. "Y/N!" Negan spat. You looked at him as tears subsided down your rosy cheeks. "I'm not done yet! We still need to determine your future." You tried cleaning yourself up; thinking what possible future you had left. "I'm almost certain you've met a reasonable number of my people, enough to answer this question." Negan smirked wildly. "Who are you?"

Before a single word departures your mouth, you backtrack to when you were with Simon and commemorated what he whispered in your ear. Fully understanding what he meant from earlier; you spoke with confidence. "I am Negan."

"Good girl." he spieled in a proud manner. "You are part of us now. You cannot leave nor is there an escape. Which is why I am giving you the option of either: 1-becoming a gorgeous addition to my wives, or 2-becoming a worker on the factory floor."

A second passes of you considering your choices, which didn't take much longer till it altered clear. "I would never marry you!" you retort.

"Shucks! I was really hoping you'd go with option one, because if you weren't crippled at the moment, I'd love to fuck your brains out, _hard_ , against that wall right now." Negan licked the bottom of his lip in a seductive way.

Your stomach knotted in response, just the image of you two having sexual intercourse made you want to vomit. You grew impatient with Negan, not taking his comment very lightly. It caused a pit of fury to boil from inside, wishing you could just scream at him. Though he did save your life after all and hasn't done any authentic harm _yet_.

Enduring the same sitting position in the chair, you mustered the craving of running away and to never look back. You didn't belong at The Sanctuary nor wanted to condone any actions it associates with. "When do I begin working?" you change the subject, conceiving a devious plan which would partake later.

"Ya'know, I like you. So much, in fact, that if you prove worthy enough in the next few weeks, I'll bump you up to resource runs."

"What is that?"

"You'll be paired with a group to collect recourses 'like food' from other communities that we overrule. Just don't do anything stupid, darling, and you should be alright." You break Negan's stare. "Within the next day, I'll have someone teach you everything ya need to know about the factory floor." he added. "I understand you've had a day from hell so far. Go back to your room and I'll get Simon to look after you."

***

With that, you rose from the cushioned chair and exited Negan's, not wanting to start an argument about obtaining a caretaker. You trailed off to your room where you came across a pile of freshly clean clothes on your bed. A note laid above the cloth which read: _Sorry if these don't fit. Hopefully they'll be good enough to last a while. —Laura._

You set the card to the side and held the clothes to your body. They seemed to fit by the looks of it, but before you actually tried them on, you decide to bathe. Near the right of your residence there was a tiny bathroom with a single-shower. You hop in and let the running hot water trickle down your figure. After so many months, you finally have the chance to experience clean, warm, water.

Time goes by of scrubbing your hair and skin until the knobs shift off and you wrap a white towel around yourself. When leaving the restroom, you hear a knock at the entrance. Your heart skips a beat as you frantically scour the bed for the clothes and tell whoever it is to wait. Once you're dressed, you unlock the door and meet Simon, who carried a plate lavished  with goodies. "Is this a bad time?" he asks, noticing your soaked hair.

"Oh, nope. Just got out." your cheeks flash a hint of red.

"May I come in?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Simon smirked when passing you and placed the tray on the side table. "How was that talk with Negan?"

"It was okay. I'll be working on the factory floor once I feel better."

"I'm a little surprised you ain't a new wife." he chuckled.

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?!" you raise your tone.

"Don't get your panties in a wad. I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what?"

"Nothing. Here, we have some ice cream." the second-in-command changed subjects, handing you a small bowl and spoon from the tray.

"Ice cream?" you question, not really caring about what was last mentioned.

You curled in bed while Simon rested in a chair beside you. The two of you shared conversations and ate ice cream throughout the night until you both passed out. Simon migrated to the couch as you remained in bed. You were still inconclusive about him—he did express good qualities about his well being every-now-and-then, but still felt divided. Mixed feelings of friend and foe lingered in your head about Simon; skeptical of his demeanor.


	5. Roam

You arise the following morning, catching a glimpse of Simon sprawled across the couch, looking hammered with his mouth gaped open. You couldn't help but laugh a little by his jocular presence as he snored peacefully. "Psst!" you whisper. "Simon!" Failing to wake his attention, you decide to throw an object at him. Scanning the room you spot a shoe on the floor and picked it up, tossing it in his direction. The foot-wear hit the man in the gut, causing him to jolt.

"Fuck was that for!?" he grumbled.

"Get up!"

"What time is it?" Simon sighs; palms collapsing with his face.

"10:47." you check the clock beside you.

"Oh shit. I need to go!" the second-in-command crawled to his feet and began racing towards the entryway.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Work. I'll be back soon."

Quickly he left without a trace and you were soon isolated, that is until the door swung open and an irked Simon huffed. "Don't leave! Stay in bed until I return." Your jaw dropped as if about to speak, but he gives you a stern look which hushes you. "I mean it Y/N!" he adds and officially wanders off.

You absolutely dread how you were treated like a baby. It coiled your mind of weakness. You never gratified others tending to your care because you would always suffice things alone. You began to wonder into a deep trance about the plan of admissible escape from here. You knew damn well that living in an establishment like this would serve useful, but you lacked something. Freedom. Though you've been saved from death itself, you wanted to leave; carry on with your life rather than loath in a prison like this one. No matter the cost, within a month of gathering supplies, you planned a risky retreat from The Sanctuary.

***

Time flowed like cement. A minute had passed since you last checked an hour ago, or so it seemed. Sitting there with nothing to stare at but a wall with chipped cream paint was excruciatingly dull and there was no telling when Simon would reappear again. It was so pointless too. You started to drift into an unpleasant daydream or was it a paranoid fantasy? So hard to tell and you didn't care. It helped to pass the time and you weren't really one for entertaining yourself with optimism.

Growing bored out of your mind, you finally chose to leave your room. It beat being trapped all day inside a cubicle, losing sanity to the silence which engulfed you; only sustained with self thoughts. Your fingertips brush the egress doorknob and slightly jar it open. You walk through the corridors at least hoping to explore more of this accustomed place.

Spending several minutes of adventuring around, you come across a tiny staircase near the factory floor. It was dark and bitter, much like an old cup of brew. It smelled of ashy cigarettes which lingered the floor. From the darkness emerged a silhouette of a man. He inched closer to where the light hit him. You observed his brown colored eyes, shoulder-length blond hair, and right portion of his face that was burned.

"Who the hell are you?" he mumbled with a cigarette butt in his mouth.

"Y/N. I'm new here...What's your name?"

"Dwight, but some people call me _'D'_." he exhaled a puff of smoke. "Here, ya want one?"

"No thanks." you take down his offer and meet his side, leaning against the rustic wall together.

"Aren't you the girl who got knocked out?"

"So that's the label I go by, apparently?" you joke.

"Ha-I guess so. I don't know too much of your backstory—speaking of which, where did you come from? Ain't you suppose to be resting or something like that?"

"Oh-uh. I was laying down but needed fresh air."

"So you came to the smoking area for _fresh_ air?"

"Alright, I was just looking around. I haven't seen much because I've been cooped up in my room. I wanted to explore some of The Sanctuary." you spoke. "Simon hasn't come back yet and I got bored."

"Simon's watching you?" Dwight laughs. "Usually Negan makes girls watch girls. He's never let a guy watch over a girl before."

For a moment you ponder on what he had told you, but soon realize that Dwight had walked away. "Hey! Come back!"

"Why? My break is over."

"I don't know. You're like the only person here whose talked civil to me. Negan, Simon, they both like to get attitudes over the most random shit."

"Well if I were you, I'd run along back to my room. I wouldn't want _Simon_ finding me somewhere I wasn't suppose to be."

"What about me?" Simon walked up, entering the conversation with a cheesy grin etched across his lips. He held his belt in his signature fashion while looming above Dwight. You immediately hide behind an enclosure where you're nowhere in sight, but able to barely watch the two. You listen in on the men's discussion.

"I was just talking to a worker on how good of a job you're doing today!" Dwight smiles, taking up for you.

"D. There is no one around to talk to." Simon placed a hand around Dwight's shoulder and got in his face. "Who were ya talking to? Or have you gone bananas and started talking to yourself?"

He gulps in slight fear considering how close Simon is, but before he could muster another word, you accidentally ram a metal object off of a table next to you. Simon turns the corner and locks onto your eyes. You could see the burning fury across his expression due to your disobedience. He grabs your arm and drags you to your room. You have just a second to glimpse at Dwight during the process. He made no effort into looking back at you as you were pulled astray.

***

"I thought I told you to stay in the goddamn room!" yelled Simon.

"I was bored! I couldn't just stay in here all day!" you argue.

"Do you know what could've happened if Negan caught you roaming The Sanctuary by yourself today?"

"What does it matter?"

"Negan is a man who follows strict rules! You are suppose to be bed bound. If he saw you by yourself, my ass would be ironed because I didn't follow his rules of watching you!"

"Then why did you leave in the first place?"

"Because I still had a job to do! You on-the-other-hand were to be in this room. Even Negan knew that. I was on my way back before I ran into you a few minutes ago!"

You remained silent while Simon breathed heavily after his spill of anger. You soon regretted leaving your accommodation once his rage calmed down. You didn't know at the time that your actions could've had consequences. Managing to apologize, you slip back into bed as the sun set and you doze off into a deep slumber.

***

When you woke the next day, you realize that Simon wasn't on the couch like yesterday morning. You laid alone in bed, curled with your knees to your chest, thinking back to last night when you pissed the second-in-command off. The brutal look on his face stuck in your head, knowing you caused his fit of rage.

Though do you really care about it that much? Or does his feelings render nothing more to you than a leaf blown in the wind?


	6. Reckoning

Someone battered at the doorway, making you jump in astonishment. You sprang to your feet and open it to find an unfamiliar woman whose neck was marked with tattoos. "I'm Laura. The one who brought you the clothes." she started. "I'm here to assist your first day on the factory floor."

You purse your lips as a wave of reality washes over you. No more playing the sickling. No more caretakers. No more Simon looking after you. Literal work had to be done. But maybe that's just what you needed; feeling useful. You gave the woman in front of you a reassuring nod.

"Meet me down by the stairs in five minutes." she spoke before walking off.

You began to get ready. Submerged in a pile of laundry, you found a pair of faded jeans and a slightly gray t-shirt, which you could only imagine being white sometime ago. As you change outfits you wondered what a day in the factory would be like. You've only seen it at a distance. You thought if it would be hot or easy-going, possibly painstaking? Either way, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

***

Laura showed you around the warehouse. It was like a vast sea of bodies who were crammed too closely together. You contemplate if becoming one of Negan's wives could have been a more prominent route, but deep down you knew this was seemingly the only option. You'd be slowly killing yourself if you sat in a room all day, just waiting to have sex with Negan. Working akin to this would please you more than offering the leader a different kind of pleasure.

Once the little tour was over with, Laura informed you of one last detail before trailing off again. "Some days we have a thing called Points Day, where you're allowed to buy supplies and whatnot. Points are like money. You earn them for your work and spend them on items. I'm gonna be generous and give you ten points, just to start ya off since you're new. One day next week you'll get the chance to buy any essentials you need."

You thanked her for the friendly endeavor prior disappearing within the enormous crowd. From this moment forward you were on your own. You had _money_ , a room, and even a job. You're to stay on track and focus on what needs to be done for the remainder of the time.

***

Your first day was spent indoors, perceiving others while you job shadowed. Except you were treated more like a slave/maid because with each encounter, you were either fetching goods or cleaning up disarray for anyone who'd solicitation your aid. You had to learn every chore before being assigned one; not knowing which you'd attribute yet. It was tough to keep up with, but you managed a handful of information: from learning how floors were kept, to observing gardeners at a remote purview.

Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cooler than it was inside the warehouse. Down in the terrace little fluxes of wind were whirling dust into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no color in anything, except the vapid walls that encompassed everywhere. The chain-link fence face gazed down from every commanding corner in sight. It indeed felt like prison.

Losing track of time you fail to notice the sun sinking beyond the horizon. People in groups left and head to the first-floor dormitories. You felt serendipitous to live on the upper levels where higher ranks dwelled. For you didn't have to mosey onto a cot or doze atop a foul featherbed like the rest of the workers.

At the end of the day you were exhausted from tending others assistance and yearned for another shower. Along the familiar trek to you room, you had to pass several avenues. The corridor to the factory workers smelled of unholy entities. The stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings, the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust, the bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp mattresses, and the horrid aroma of chamber pots. It nearly caused you to hurl, but you only sizzed an icky dry-heave.

Finally arriving at your residence, you immediately strip from the undesirable clothes which you wore and entered the shower. Once more it felt delightful to enjoy the febrile water wash away the filth that ambled you. To be alone after a hellish day was very relieving and blissfully mind numbing. Soon you were refreshed and feeling more like yourself than ever. You wished to ease into a slumber; forgetting about the terrible experiences you encountered from earlier.

***

Three weeks pass of endless work inside the factory. Your first job being a janitor, you conducted mopping and waxing numerous hallways and even personal rooms. Your liability would vary depending on what mood your ' _working boss_ ' was in. The second job you operated was in the kitchen, scrubbing away at dishes for many hours until your fingertips were pruned and sore. The luckiest and most recent job you had was gardening. You loved being able to take in the summer air and feel the warmth from the sun.

As these weeks slowly flew by, you recalled catching peeks of Simon every-now-and-then when he would check on the workers. In total, you saw him maybe two to three times a day, but only for quick glimpses. The thing that bothered you about this recurring event were the moments you both would make eye contact.

You'd feel a minor flutter in your stomach. Once in sight, Simon could manufacture an unidentifiable emotion within you. How could someone you hate before cause you to feel this way? A new unforeseen desire? You had no clue what this was, but you tried burying the feeling deeper each time he lingered in your presence.

Not even aware of the big day which will take place tomorrow, you laid in bed with an excruciating migraine; gathering many thoughts about Simon.


	7. Replenish

Bleary-eyed, you went downstairs for an important dissemination. The hallways were empty, even the atmosphere seemed lifeless. A rather immense yawn departures your mouth as you slugged your way towards the meeting-room. You didn't have the faintest idea as to why you were being sent there so early in the morning; it pained you to leave the bed.

You knock against a door which coincided your destination. A booming "Come in!" rang from the other side. The knob swivels ajar letting yourself in, noticing Negan sitting at the end of a long table; Lucille grazing his lap. "Have a seat." he smiled wildly. Without a word you slumped into a chair wondering why you were the only other person there. No Dwight, Laura, Arat, Simon, Fat Joey, Jared, or Gavin. Just you.

"Did you want something?" you say while rubbing the rheum from your drowsy eyes.

"It's been several weeks since your arrival and I did mention bumping your job up if you proved worthy." Your brows raise to his voice and your back straightens, listening closer to what Negan had to offer. "Ya haven't done any stupid bullshit and you seem to handle yourself well enough. Goddamn, I know a fighter when I see one. The fact you managed to stay alive during that shit-show lets me know you're a surviver."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think you're qualified to start attending resource runs, darlin'."

You were taken aback by this gesture. It sparked your curiosity as to how Negan luxuriated so much trust from you. Nevertheless, you didn't want to turn down his proposal. You hungered to see the world again rather than only view The Sanctuary borders every repeating day.

"Tell me more about runs."

"You'll be paired with a group varied in numbers. Trips can last from a few hours to an over night stay. One person will be in charge of the accumulation and you'll take their orders. Gather anything useful, especially what ever alcohol you come across." said Negan smirking. "I'm assigning you to Hilltop. People should be down by the fences packing trucks, go meet with them and bring back awesome shit." he added.

***

The sun was shining brightly, the breeze which came from the forest was soft and warm, trees overhead swayed and a few birds circle about. After a little chat with the leader, you found yourself by the chain-link fence where a ton of vehicles waited. Saviors scattered the place in small cliques. They busily stowed away weapons and bags, nobody even alluded your presence.

You walk closer to the trucks, soon stopping dead in your tracks. Up ahead was an old white 2003 Ford E-350 at the front of the parked convoy. It was smothered in yolk-colored pollen and thinned splotches of dirt. A huge haul rested in the back for storage, allowing maybe two to four people eligible to sit in its cabin.

The silhouette of a man emerged from the drivers side. Your heart raced once you saw who it was: none other than Simon himself. He casually strides in a slow manner towards you, grasping his belt like usual. "What are you doing out here?" he asked in a grating tone.

"Negan moved me to resource runs."

"Whatever the boss wants. Hop in, we're on a tight schedule."

Simon walked past you and continued instructing others to do the same. You weren't sure if there was a specific motorcar you were suppose to ride in, so you entered the closest one, not realizing it was the white Ford at first. Inside the truck of choice you see two Saviors already settled in the cabin. You scoot closer and slam the door shut. Minutes go by and Simon gets behind the wheel. You groan quietly to yourself knowing the two of you were crammed in the same confinement for who-knows-how-long.

The engine started, which caused you to jump in response to its loud roar. A Savior snickered at your alarmed jolt, making you glow with embarrassment. You attempt to shove it off and stare through the dusty window, hoping to zone out and find some sort of enjoyment during this sustained itinerary.

The ride to _Hilltop_ was quiet. So quiet that your mind kept getting dragged back to reality. How you were wedged between a stranger and a metal door. The retched stench of body odor stinging your nose and bitter dryness overlaying the surface of your tongue. How the guy who once looked after you is driving, seated only a couple of people away.

Every-now-and-then Simon would engage small talk with the other passengers, but never once acknowledged you nor pursued a single glimpse in your direction. Hearing his voice after so long made you feel warm, almost as if you missed the sound of it, but at the same time something negative inside you twisted into a furious ball; was this possible jealousy of not receiving his attention? You did want to say something after all. A simple _'hey Simon, how ya doin?'_ would greatly suffice, though for an uncertain reason, you never could build the courage to let one word slip through your lips.

You tried ignoring Simon's crude behavior and continued staring beyond the scenery that passed you by. Lush green fields sparked the ground and pools of water flourished with fish in the distance. Segments of flowers prone across its land, nearly forming rainbows in the grassy plains. It felt breathtaking to see the colorful, yet apocalyptic world again.

***

Within nearly a full hour, an open meadow waited ahead that parted the forest. To the right was a building which looked similar to a museum resting atop a hill. "Here we are," Simon broke the silence. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" you spoke, surprised by your name being called.

"Stick with me since this is your first run." You reply with a nod.

The convoy halted once entering the spiked wooden fence surrounding Hilltop. Saviors eluded their vehicles. Departing from the white Ford truck, you follow behind Simon as he walked up to a man you could only imagine being the leader of this establishment. Others stood behind him glaring angrily at you and your group.

"Ah, Simon, hello! I have a fresh batch of gin waiting inside!" he said.

"That shit tastes like turpentine. I'm more into Tequila now." spat Simon.

"Yes, sorry, I'll find more as soon as-"

"A-bu-bu-bu-This isn't the time for getting drunk. I'm here for supplies." he interrupted. "Y/N, meet Gregory. A pathetic excuse for the leader of Hilltop."

"Hi." you say while waving a hand.

Gregory gives you a quick glance and nods, bringing his attention back to Simon. You could see the fear in his blue eyes, how he cowers down to Simon. Almost like a personal servant, Gregory would care to anything Simon desired.

"We need to talk. Mind letting us in?" Simon grinned placing an unexpected arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body while never breaking contact with Gregory.

"S-sure." Gregory motion the two of you to make way toward the museum.

Still locked in Simon's embrace the three of you walked into an office while Saviors started raiding every nook and cranny they could find throughout Hilltop.


	8. Residual

Everything stopped. People were stood like statues all around you, crowds near cars, and younger children in arms reach. They all seemed cold; frozen in time. Citizens of Hilltop watched while Saviors took whatever they entreated from them. 

You, Simon, and Gregory paraded inside like it was nothing. Wandering aimlessly through the house, you sought any form of distraction to avoid the inevitable nerves growing in your stomach. You didn't know what to expect or what could happen next. 

The first thing being noticed were bottles of alcohol spread across a desk. How filthily and unorganized the jars of chosen poison rested along the fine wood. Paintings hung on the walls. Simon, being the aesthete he is, withdrew his arm from you and observed a piece of art attached above a mantle. He made a pleasant remark towards the artist and their skills, only to bring his attention back to you. Simon joined your side next to the desk and began speaking to Gregory. The two men discussed topics that you were unfamiliar with, but listened anyway. 

"Last night was quite the scare, huh?" Simon spoke in an orotund voice. 

"Y-yes, we weren't expecting-" Gregory stammered. 

"That was all us."

"I think it was to show who's boss?"

"Damn right it was. It was us providing an example. We worked our asses off."

Gregory nodded. 

"Ya got a nice place. Tall walls. Your people probably don't even remember what the corpses look like or smell like. We were gonna kill them to remind the service we can provide and you cleaned up the mess yourselves. Good on you."

"Well we must've picked up those skills from your people. In fact you still saved us. Right?"

"That's a nice way to look at it. I appreciate that. Just wanted to suggest a friendly reminder on whose still in charge." Simon soon changed the subject. "Now, my people are taking half of your rations. And only half. I came to you specifically for another type of ration." he smirked. 

"Yes of course! I'll be back."

Gregory fled out of the room to retrieve an unknown object. You stood there in silence, not fully understanding what the two men were talking about since you'd spend most of your days upon the factory floor. As you and Simon were left alone you decided to speak up. 

"I want to apologize." you broke the quietness which lingered. 

"For...?"

"Not following the rules when you told me to stay in the bedroom."

"Y/N! For fuck's sake that was weeks ago."

"I know. I just haven't had the chance to talk to you. After it happened I felt kinda bad and wanted to say sorry."

Simon took a seat on the desk, keeping your eye contact. "How has the factory been? People treating you nice?"

"It was tough at first, but as time went on my jobs got promoted. Speaking of promotions, I still can't believe Negan actually positioned me for runs with you guys."

"What's that suppose to mean?" teased Simon. 

"I just think it's was weird how I'm relatively new and the boss-man already bumped me to a high rank...And I never understood what Dwight meant when he said-"

Gregory stumbled in carrying a crate, interrupting your sentence. "It's all here!" he exhaled. 

Simon walked over and looked within the box; a distressed expression to form his features. "Scotch." he sighed. "Hate this stuff. A replacement for ash trays and window cleaner. I'm a gin man now. But—Negan will love this. I'm gonna say it's from me and not mention you. I really want the headline on this one." he smiled at Gregory. 

You watched as the white haired-man continued to wash over in cowardly fear. The crate filled with scotch was quickly yanked from his grasp by Simon as he exited the building. You again follow behind your temporary boss and help settle the rations into the back of the large haul. 

"Y/N. This way!" called Simon. Once the box was snugged in its place Simon wanted to show you around, along with making sure Saviors were gathering the proper half of Hilltop's stuff. 

While he walked you through the different areas, the two of you shared more conversations; reconnecting the missing weeks in between. A warming glow radiated as you spoke to him. Unlike others at The Sanctuary, Simon really listens to what you have to say. Even though he's a dick most of the time, you were able to somewhat break through and see a man with a heart. It took allotment, but since then you began to slowly trust Simon. He started becoming a friend. 

***

Hours passed and the sky turned dark gray. Water droplets fell like they simply cannot think of anything better to do. There was a laziness about them, as if they could barely be bothered to conform to the will of gravity. When you held your bare arm out the droplets splatter on your outstretched fingers. Everyone ran for shelter. Citizens of Hilltop enter their homes as Saviors return to their assigned vehicles. 

It was a successful day of gathering to say the least. 'Negan will be damn pleased that's for sure' mentioned someone within the group. Now that everything was back in order and ready to go, Simon cranked the engine. You sat beside him drenched in rainwater along with everyone else. You looked out the window watching Hilltop become smaller in the distance. 

The sun had vanished behind the rain clouds, unable to make out what time it was. You waited. Waited to arrive at The Sanctuary just to wrap up in a warm towel, but the rain came down hard on the roof of the truck. You could hear the drumming along the window. 

***

Things seemed fine until a crowd of walking corpses lingered in the muddy road. Nearly a mile away, the dead drug their way in you all's direction. Each Walker was battered in heavy mud as if they had fallen and crawled their bodies through the thick ground. 

The convoy came to a sudden halt. Vehicles and their tires became stuck in the road as the thunderstorm worsened. Simon had to think quickly while the sun was setting and the corpses drew closer. 

His plan of action is to fight as many as possible and try to escape. Somehow or another.


	9. Rest

You looked out the window. The sky was tar-black now; large clouds were moving closer. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and you could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.

Simon gripped his door and swung it open. In a low breath, he ordered you to stay put in the truck. "I'll be back! Don't move from this spot."

He was quickly gone and you felt worried. In the blink of an eye, he could easily turn into one of those dammed walkers or end up dead. You didn't want to sit there and let it happen, or continue thinking about it. You could potentially exit the vehicle, after all possessing a knife in your pocket would avail. You craved to be useful and not held back.

You climb out of the passenger side and heard the corpses grunting and snarls. It was difficult to see in the hazed dark night, but you remained to aimlessly wander into the blackness holding your weapon. Though this task was harder than you imagined. It was so obfuscated. It felt like standing in another dimension as numerous sounds echoed all around your being. Shouts from Saviors, the rain, growls from the dead.

Fear washed over you as each step became a new discovery. The forest raged with life. You walked alone with your knife in front, trying to pay attention to what may lay ahead. Seconds turned into minutes until a hand reached for your ankle. You trip and hit the ground as mud now engulfed your body. A skeleton of a walker dragged its way towards you, nipping the air with its ripped mouth and rotten teeth. You quickly squeeze your knife’s handle and impale the walkers' skull.

You sigh in relief to the traumatic experience, but remember that there's more and hop to your feet. After augmented long minutes of hiking through the massive woodland, you bump into a body. Wielding your weapon, you prepare to stab whoever it was prior to them yelling:

"Y/N?!"

It was Simon who was holding a bloody hatchet. You didn't have the words to say anything, nor did he have the energy to disclose further dispute. He panted heavily. A distressed expression on his face. You could tell by the way he looked at you that the mini-battle with the walkers was over with, at least for now. Without verbalizing, Simon gently took your hand and guided you back to the main road.

***

Once you two were back inside the cabin of the Ford, Simon started a conversation. "Why did you leave when I told you to stay...again?"

"Because I wanted to help fight the corpses. And make sure you're okay," you said expecting to hear Simon yell at you for disobeying his orders. However, to your surprise only heard him laugh slightly.

"You're not that good at listening are you?" he chuckled.

"I suppose not." you smile.

***

Simon then got out of the truck and alerted for the group to gather around. He announced that most of the walkers were dead and the future plan would be to set camp here along the roads for the night and go back to The Sanctuary at dawn. Everyone began to make room in their vehicles and settle in for the evening. The rain still fell but lightened up some since earlier.

Simon re-entered the cabin. "You know why I wanted you to remain in the truck right?"

"Was it to be like a caretaker again?" you joked.

"I didn't want you getting hurt."

"I knew it!"

"Seriously, you only killed, what, one walker and the rest of us killed over seven solid."

"It was dark alright!"

"Uh-hu. That's a stupid excuse."

You couldn't think of a comeback straight away so you shot him a mean-playful glare. He laughed some more which caused you to grin.

Suddenly you started to feel chills run down your spine. Nonetheless, it was semi-humid, but the rain caused a brisk cooler touch in the air. As well as the fact that the truck was turned off didn't suffice any temperature change during the situation.

Simon noticed your shivers and offered the coat he was wearing. You gladly accept his offering and wrap up in his soft leathered jacket. In the midst of another topic being shared with one another, you two begin to feel lethargic after a long days work. So you both merge to the back of the haul for some shuteye.

Outside the truck, the rain amended into a mist. Simon grabbed the handle to the haul and yanked it upwards. Its door sprang open where the Hilltops rations laid. He helped you up into the truck and made room for an area to rest, then closed the secured the entryway.

"I wish we could start a fire." you exhale while sitting on the floor across from Simon.

"I don't think it would be safe to make one here."

He was right but you half wanted to risk a fire anyway. You were too cold, especially being in this darkened old haul. Still, you supposed that if there were no more walkers, the pair of you could get some rest.

You began to repeat different thoughts to Simon and he nodded whereas listening, laying down on the metal and opening his arms for you. _Its just for body warmth,_ you reminded yourself as you lay down and inched closer to Simon, allowing him to hold you close. You entwined your legs with his and wrapped your free arm around him, shuddering when your shared warmth began to caress feeling back into your body.

The two of you lay there for a few minutes in silence, broken when you shifted a little and spoke into Simons' chest. "Even though I'm not the best at rule following and such, thanks for caring about me earlier. I'm sorry I went out, but it's really sweet that you wanted me safe more than anything," you mumbled as you drifted off to sleep. Simon said something back to you but you were already too far gone.


	10. Reassure

It was now morning. In the darkness it felt like a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. Simon's arm wrapped right around you, bringing a peace you've never known before, a calming of the storms in your heart. Your eyes flutter open. In his embrace you start to believe that there is nothing out there to fear, that all the walkers are gone and this was a normal world. But then you shift.

"Simon..." you whispered as you gently shook him, trying to wake him. "Simon, come on. We need to head out." you urged shaking him more. This time it worked and he moved, tightening his grip on you for a moment before burying his face into your neck; sighing as he attempted to fall back asleep. You couldn't resist the slight chuckle escaping your lips.

As you lay in the same position, you think for a minute how life would've turned out differently if Simon had not of been there for you; in the beginning. How his asshole of an attitude molted into a man who shows some care in your well being. The fact that he was currently cuddled into your side. It felt amazing, however, the reassuring thought suddenly raddled your brain. _I_ _am_ _still_ _running_.

You were reminded of the mission planned from day one of living at The Sanctuary. You can't be here, not much longer that is. Even though you've formed some sort of tiny bond with Simon recently, you had to escape but didn't wish to mislead him either.

Pleading to end these considerations, you pull away from his grasp and stood up for some fresh air. You uprooted the haul door open and enjoyed the temporary view of fluffy clouds as they glide across the pale blue sky; fading, the subdued moon sat redundantly behind them. The sun has awakened and is promptly emerging through the hazy sky. The cloudy layer created a pleasant blanket from the sun. Birds simultaneously tweet out to each other in a chorus, singing a soothing, melodic tune. A graceful robin flew swiftly by, flowing beside the gentle breeze, back to its vigilantly poised nest on the branch of a tree.

"Good morning pretty lady," you hear Simon from behind, causing your inspecting to catch his attention as your head turns towards him.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty!" you tease.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Good actually. What about you?"

"Like a baby," he says as he exits the haul. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just eager return," you say lightly smiling. You follow him out and hang back as he wakes up the other Saviors to prepare to travel to The Sanctuary. In the meantime, you enter the cabin and wait for Simon to start the engine.

***

Trailing up the familiar pathway, the first thing you see is the new and fresh walkers chained to the fence. Watching as their ajar mouths nibble the humid atmosphere. It gives you a shiver down the spine as you remember the events from last night. _Home_ _sweet_ _home_ , you thought.

The Ford came to a strong halt and Simon jerked the keys from the ignition. He glanced at you and motioned his arm as if saying to 'come along'. You slide out of the passenger side and meet him towards the stern of the vehicle. "Help me unload the rations and bring them to the boss-man, please ma'am." You smirk up at Simon and nod your head; starting to unpack the haul.

The last box cradled in your forearms, the cedar wood scratching your skin roughly as you journey to the meeting room where Negan abided. Both you and Simon walk in with the rations, placing them carefully on the long table. The leader lurched forward with Lucille in her usual resting spot bordering his lap. "I see you two have returned with quite the find," said Negan.

Simon lifted a bottle of an alcoholic substance and presented it to his boss with a witty smile. "The finest Scotch in all the Land of the Dead!" Simon spoke proudly.

"And how was Little Miss First-Timer over there?" asked Negan.

"She did great."

"Wonderful," he grinned at you. "Now, Simon, a birdy came by and told me about the walker infestation on the road."

"And...?"

"And y'all could've come back last night. So why didn't you? Hmm? Are you really that delicate, Simon?"

"Sir, we had to stay because there were too many corpses and it was dark and pouring rain."

"I thought I taught y'all better than that. It was just a little fucking rain. I guess you are truly that weak, huh? You could've brought the rations quicker if you weren't fucking around!" Negan slammed his bat down and shouted furiously.

"Enough!" you yelled. "It was pitch black dark and raining like hell. Dozens of walkers scoured the road and the mud even slowed the tires down! Simon made good calls last night in choosing to stay!" Your patience wired thin. "Why would you jump him like this and say he isn't capable of doing what was right?"

Negan grabbed hold of the Scotch and told the two of you to get out. With no hesitation, the pair of you did so.

***

You decided to spend more time with Simon and go with him to his room. He had a secret stash of tequila under his bed that no one knew about...He poured you a half glass and began to speak: "I'm very sorry about earlier. Negan is almost always finding something dumb to argue with me about. He pisses me off a lot." Simon took a sip.

"He can certainly be a dick. There was no reason for him to verbally attack you, calling you out for having a different strategic plan than what he would have done."

"Exactly! The fucking ass. Sometimes I wish I was the one in charge and not the 'right-hand-man."

"Maybe one day you will be."

The rest of the day consisted of booze and mind-numbing ease. Simon ended up very drunk and slurring his words. It was quite the treat watching him become this huge loving teddy bear when he's wasted. You assumed he would be bitter and angry by his personality, but he really was a big softie after several shots of his favorite poison. Simon was the type of man that you enjoyed company from. When breaking a few walls and understanding his true self, he was transcendent.

When the evening of drinking turned into night murk, you tucked Simon in bed. Sitting on the edge, looking at his exhausted frame submerged in the eggshell white covers; ensuing within his tranquil slumber. 

You smiled for a moment until you remember how you won't be seeing him much longer. The haunting of your destiny to escape The Sanctuary and move on from here. The gut feeling from your previous group still tells you to run like hell. Though they are gone, they would not want you dwelling with these Saviors. You understood that this current community was not full of good people and how Negan treats the surrounding camps like shit. Saviors are like dictators, which deep down you didn't want to be a part of. Although Simon was different around you. You didn't want to let him go that soon. Not just yet. 

***

You decided to leave him be for the night and race back to your room where you needed to clear your head.


End file.
